


You Jump, I Jump

by Drarrymadhatter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrymadhatter/pseuds/Drarrymadhatter
Summary: Draco, now Lord of the Manor, is in charge of holding the Beltane celebration. He's been suffering from depression since the war. Can this celebration somehow give him a new spark of life?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: Celebration of Beltane 2020





	You Jump, I Jump

**You Jump, I Jump**

It was 7am and the house elves had been bustling with activity for hours. Narcissa Malfoy was also already awake, barking orders and double checking arrangements. The festival of Beltane was upon them and, as usual, the Manor was holding a large celebration to honour its coming. It was to be the first proper celebration within the Manor since the War had ended, and many influential people had been invited; the Minister for Magic, the families of the Sacred 28, even Harry Potter. Everyone would be judging them on how this event ran, and not a thing could go wrong. Their position in society was at stake.

The small house elf crept into the dark suite, bearing a laden tea tray for her Master. Carefully, she placed the tray onto the nightstand and made her way silently over to the ensuite to draw the bath. Once the bath was ready, the elf made her way around the suite, opening the heady curtains to fill the room with bright morning sunshine. Lastly, she took her Master’s dressing gown and slippers from the closet and placed them on the foot of the bed for when her Master should wake, which should really be any moment now. The elf gave the suite one last scrutinising look to ensure she hadn’t missed anything, before opting to forgo apparating. Instead, she decided to slip out of the room without a sound; it wouldn’t do to wake her Master prematurely.

Draco was awake. In fact, he had been awake for the majority of the night. He had managed a couple of hours of sleep, but in the end it wasn’t worth it. The chances of him having a peaceful night were slim to none and he didn’t know how many nightmares he could cope with in the one night. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and poured himself some tea, holding the china cup tightly in both hands. He used to love being served his tea in bed, like a little king in his castle. There were times when he was younger when he would feign a headache just so he could have his entire breakfast in bed, and not just his tea. How pampered it used to make him feel. Now? It just served to remind him of the burden of his position, especially on a day like today. A festival day. Draco closed his eyes for a moment and sighed in exhaustion at the thought of having to entertain and schmooze and all the usual nonesense. 

After a while, Draco became aware that his tea had gone cold. He had no idea how long he had just sat there for, but the day was anxious to be underway and there was nothing for it. He placed his cup back onto the tea tray and lifted himself out of bed. It was cold in the room and Draco blankly watched the skin on his bare arms shrink away into gooseflesh from the cool morning air.  _ Goosebumps _ , he thought to himself,  _ cold _ . Neither thought managed to connect with anything in his mind and he shrugged to himself. There wasn’t time for dawdling when he had duties to attend. 

* * *

The sun was unusually hot as the festivities gained momentum. Everyone who had been invited had come, even Harry Potter, and the Manor grounds were heaving with people and chatter and music and cheer. There were clumps of people mulling around, chatting, eating, and generally having a good time. Many had brought their families with them, indeed there were many children running around looking for signs of faeries, every now and then one of them demanded they saw one. Servers wove their way through the crowds bearing large platters of fresh Spring food and goblets of wine for the guests to enjoy. There was a folk band set up at the back of the area, playing gay ditties on their flutes and fiddles and guitars. There were several people on the dance floor, already merry despite it being only midday, happily dancing to the music, or otherwise clapping along as they watched on the sidelines. 

As the Lord of the Manor, Draco was supposed to be mingling with the masses and overseeing the whole thing.  _ Supposed to _ ,  _ what did that even mean _ ? He had forced himself into dispensing the pleasantries he couldn't get out of, but that was all. He was all for holing up in his study and drinking, but no. His mother had said it was time to regain their status in society, whatever that meant. 

He ran his gaze over the crowds until he spotted her talking with the Minister for Magic near the dance floor. She was smiling and laughing, her hair shining in the sunlight and her summer dress robes fell around her small frame gracefully with every gesture she made. Draco could see she was entirely in her element. His mother was born to entertain. He, however, was not. He stood to the side of the ruckus and allowed his mother to do as much of the hosting as he dared to foist onto her.  _ It’s her bloody party anyway _ , he thought to himself as he helped himself to yet another goblet of wine.

* * *

A sudden applause roused Draco from his distraction and he looked around to see what he’d missed. His mother was standing in the middle of a large crowd holding two small crowns woven from Spring flowers next to two laughing children. The Maypole. They had been crowned the King and Queen of the Maypole.  _ Some king and queen _ , snorted Draco to himself,  _ two snot nosed kids who’s big achievement was to dance in a circle around a striped pole. Big bloody whoop. _ He looked around at the other guests and spotted Harry Potter on the side of the dance floor, holding a goblet of wine, chatting animatedly with a woman with long red hair who Draco assumed was his plus one. She was very familiar and very pretty, there was no denying that.  _ Happy _ , he thought, they both look  _ so full of happiness _ . He wondered what it felt like. He wasn’t sure he could ever remember feeling happy like that. He turned on his heel and headed over to one of the servers on the far side of the grounds. He needed another drink, and fast.

Draco gulped down half of the goblet before resolving to speak to some of the guests. The last thing he wanted was his mother to look at him with those big cow eyes, moaning about how he needed to try. Try what, he’d like to know! Before he could steel himself for mingling, a voice came from his right.

“Of all the gin joins in all the towns in all the world.” 

“Excuse me?” puzzled Draco, “Oh, it’s you, is it? What’s wrong? Is the wine not to your liking, Potter?”

“The wine’s just fine, Draco.” grinned Harry. 

“Then can I help you with something?” he asked dutifully. He was the ever helpful Lord of the Manor after all.

“You know, you could show a little enthusiasm. It is your party after all.”

“It is, is it?” sighed Draco tiredly. “Isn’t there someone else you can go harass? Like your date perhaps?”

“Date? Oh you mean Ginny? Nah she’s not my date.” 

Draco simply hummed in response, hoping that he would take the hint and leave him alone. Conversation with people he liked was strenuous at the best of times, but this? He didn’t have the wherewithal for this at all. However, Harry seemed to take Draco’s hum as an invitation to elaborate.

“Yeah, she’s got a thing for Theo Nott so I agreed to bring her with me. One thing I’ve learned over the years is never to refuse a red head if you can help it.”

“Is that so?” mumbled Draco.  _ What am I doing here? _ “It’s quite possible I’m supposed to be doing something. Excuse me.”

* * *

Dusk was finally beginning to fall and Draco had been all but manhandled by his mother to the centre of the festivities to light the Beltane bonfire. She had been none too gentle either, as she dragged him and hissed in his ear of how he had duties to fulfill.  _ Whatever _ , he had thought, but he wisely kept it to himself as he went through the ceremonial motions of lighting the fire. Personally, he thought his speech was dry and lacking, but no one seemed to notice judging from the cheers that resulted from it.  _ People got happy about the weirdest things _ . 

Once the fire was lit, he had dutifully led the procession through the Manor itself, using a torch from the bonfire to light each fire within the house. Each time the flames took hold within the hearth the guests would let loose yet another cheer and clap.  _ What do they think they are, bloody sealions? _ Finally, the flame related traditions having been observed, Draco was finally allowed to lead the party back outside to the grounds, where the dance floor and band had been removed. Instead, in their place were many blankets, cushions, beanbags, strewn haphazardly around the grass surrounding the bonfire.  _ Here we go, _ thought Draco disinterestedly, _ on to the next bloody tradition. _

It was amazing how quick the crowd managed to disperse into their relevant couples and family groups and settle themselves onto the blankets and makeshift chairs. There was some soft signing from some of the groups. Others had begun toasting pieces of fruit from the serving platters as hot snacks. Draco settled himself down on a soft woolen blanket the furthest away from everyone else. Now and then, guests would run and jump over the bonfire in the hopes of making their dreams for the future come true. One or two of the guests had been issued replacement robes due to their hems becoming caught in one of the dancing flames of the fire. Draco wondered if he would have found that funny once. 

A shadow fell over him as he sat pondering the dangers of celebrating Beltane, causing him to look up.

“Hiding, are we?” asked Harry, that same inane grin across his face.  _ What does he have to be so happy about anyway? _ Wondered Draco absently.

“I don’t know, being alive with all my bits intact I suppose. The real question is what do you have to be so unhappy about?”

Draco startled and realised he had spoken aloud rather than thought in his head.  _ How the hell did that happen? _

“How the hell did what happen?” asked Harry, looking by this point suitably confused.

“Look, will you stop it!” snapped Draco suddenly.

“Stop what?” 

“Reading my mind.”

“Erm, I’m not. You spoke.” Harry asked slowly, causing Draco to think he sounded like he was talking to a crazy person. “Draco, are you ok?” 

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Draco? It’s your name isn’t it?”

Suddenly Draco felt heavy from his toes to his eyelids. He lay back on the blanket and looked at the sky. The night was clear and you could see the stars as clear as crystal.  _ No, not crystal, _ decided Draco, _ like diamonds.  _

“Should I get someone…” enquired Harry uncertainly, “You really don’t look very good.”

After a few minutes of silence, Draco felt Harry shift on the blanket until he was lying next to him, also looking at the stars. Harry being so close to him, made Draco feel...something. Squirmy. It made him feel squirmy.  _ That’s not a word _ , he admonished himself, but decided it felt like an accurate description nonetheless. 

“I don’t get all this you know,” stated Harry suddenly, wrenching Draco out of his reverie. “I mean it’s pretty and fun, and who doesn’t like a bonfire, but why all the fuss? I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” asked Draco, surprised that his voice didn’t seem as listless as usual. 

“The festival. I was raised muggle, remember. By shitty muggles at that. I never got to celebrate my birthday or Christmas, never mind anything extra. I guess it’s just all a bit new to me, is all.”

“What do you mean you never got to celebrate -”

“That’s not the point, focus Draco, focus.” smiled Harry, “explain this to me.”

“Explain what?” asked Draco, feeling by the second like he was missing some crucial step.

“The meaning of life, Draco.” scoffed Harry, “Beltane, obviously.”

Suddenly Draco felt a bit on display, but nonetheless deigned to answer.

“It’s a festival, the celebration of the coming of Summer. You know, all about rebirth and fertility and creative energy and cleansing. Beltane means ‘bright fire’ and it’s the main part of it all. It’s a really big deal for traditional wizarding families. Actually, a lot of weddings tend to happen around nowish.” Draco felt breathless, sure he hadn’t spoken at such length voluntarily in such a long time.

“Why are they jumping over the fire every two mins though? Surely that’s just stupid. Especially with how pissed some of these people are.” demanded Harry, still not quite getting things.

“Well, there’s the belief that on Beltane if you have a dream or a wish for the future and you jump over the fire, then it will come to pass. Sort of like something of a rebirth.”

“Then how come you haven’t jumped?”

“I don’t have any dreams or wishes.” replied Draco blandly.

“Oh come on,” pressed Harry, “You must have one.”

Draco thought for a moment for what he could say, but the more he thought about it, only one thing rang true for him.

“I wish I could feel again. I’m so still all the time, empty. Things are just too much. If I could wish for something it would be to be able to feel good again.”

“So, go ahead.” urged Harry in a near whisper. “Wish for it and then jump.”

“No. I couldn’t handle it if I did and it was for nothing. Dreams don’t come true, Potter.”

Suddenly, Harry stood up and pulled Draco to his feet with a confident smile on his face. 

“If you don’t do it, then it has no chance of ever coming true. But if you do, it just might.”

Then, as if sensing Draco’s trepidation, he added, “I’ll jump with you. I have something I want to wish for too.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Draco felt his heart race. Potter was right, there was no reason not to and every reason to give it a try. Tentatively, Draco flashed a small smile in Harry’s direction before nodding once. Harry led them both over to the bonfire and grasped Draco’s hand firmly.

“Ready? One, two, three, jump!”

As Draco and Harry launched themselves over the top of the bonfire, Draco felt for the first time in forever, alive.


End file.
